


Dark Sorrow

by thingyoudowiththatthing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sex, Rough Sex, Self-Hatred, but it's dark, not really non con, so better safe than sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 09:37:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16238969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingyoudowiththatthing/pseuds/thingyoudowiththatthing
Summary: Dean reads a letter you left for him





	Dark Sorrow

You had known it was wrong. He had looked like Dean. He had sounded like Dean, but he hadn’t been Dean. Not at the time. He was rougher. The care had been gone from his eyes and had been replaced by something much much darker. Pitch black at times.

Dean had been a demon. He still was for all you knew. Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you sat in his room. Writing a letter he might never read. You listened to his screams filling the Bunker as his brother tried to cure him. To bring Dean back.

You wanted him back. You couldn’t let him go through life as everything he had despised. As a demon. That was why you had finally broken down and called Sam. You had called Sam because it was the right thing to do, but it was also the hardest thing you had ever done. He might have been a demon, but he had wanted you, and you hadn’t been able to refuse.

Whatever he had wanted. However he had wanted it. You couldn’t say no. Finally, he had been yours. Even if it hadn’t been all of him. Even if it hadn’t really been him. You had had him. And you hadn’t been able to stop. Not for weeks.

It hadn’t been that you were afraid to refuse him. Something deep within you had told you he would never hurt you. Not really. Demon or not, you had trusted him. You just wished he had wanted you like this when he had been human. That he still would when Sam cured him. If Sam could cure him. There was no way he would. Not after the things you had let him do to you. Not after the ways you had let him touch you. Defile you. He was a demon, and instead of trying to help him you had let him fuck you. You had let him tie you up and use you over and over and over again. More than that, you had liked it. Hell you had loved it. There was no way he would ever see you the same way ever again. There was no way he would let you truly give him all of you, and there was no way he would be willing to let you have all of him. Not after you used him rather than helping him. It might have been for love, but you had still used him nonetheless. So your memories of nights and days spend with his hands all over you. Memories of him filling you up, thrusting into you over and over - they would have to be enough.

You remembered how you had moaned loudly, staring up into the green eyes that turned black as he filled you to the rim in one rough deep thrust, a few hours before he had fallen asleep. Drunk and satisfied. Fighting to memorize the feeling of him inside you, a feeling you had been so afraid you would forget, but now knew you never would. The memories would have to be enough.

You took a deep breath and a single tear streamed down your cheek, staining the envelope as you closed it. You looked around the room, his room, one last time before placing your letter on his pillow. You felt as if you left a piece of your heart in that room as you walked through his door, out into the hallway, up the stairs of the Bunker, and disappeared into the night. Knowing you would never see Dean Winchester again. No matter if he lived or died. You couldn’t face him. Not now. Not ever again. So you left knowing, just like you had for a long time, that you were in love with the oldest Winchester. Knowing that you had ruined any chance you might ever had had with him.

*****

The lights in the Bunker were out. Cas had left with the female angel he had mentioned. Sam was sound asleep in his room. Y/N was long gone, and Dean… Dean was sitting alone on his bed staring into the air. Wishing the numbness would return. Wishing that he couldn’t feel a damn thing. But more than anything, he wished he was holding her and not just an envelope with her hand writing.

He was kidding himself and he knew it. The chance he had ever had with her was long gone. The things he had done to her… The things he had made her do… Dean flinched at the thought of how his hands had felt around her neck. How her body had shivered and shaken beneath him as he used her. Used her to get off. Taken what he wanted without thinking. Without feeling. Without remorse. Without consideration.

Dean looked down and the envelope in his hands, and his heart clenched in his chest as he noticed the dried tear on the back. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Readying himself for what she had to say. To see how much damage he had cause. He knew he had broken her. Them. Before he ever had a chance to tell her how he felt. Even that was crap and he knew it. He had had plenty of chances. He just hadn’t been man enough to show her. When his demon had taken over, a part of that stayed. He didn’t love her then. He couldn’t feel a damn thing, but he still wanted her. He still needed and desired her. So he had gone after her, taken her. Used and broken her.

Dean felt sick to his stomach as he remembered the tears that had filled her eyes every time they had finished. Back then he hadn’t been able to care. Now it tore him to pieces. He knew what the letter was going to say. He wasn’t sure he could read it. He wasn’t sure he could take anything more than the memories of her pain. A pain he, demon or not, had caused. He had never wanted to hurt her. Hell, if anyone else had tried he would have killed them on principle alone.

She had been his light in the dark for a long time. His reason to keep going. His reason to fight. His reason to smile and feel anything but guilt and pain. She had been everything to him and now she was gone. Broken and damaged because of him. The very reason he never told her how he felt was that he wanted to keep her safe. Now he wished that he would have, because then maybe, just maybe, this would never have happened. Maybe she would have been able to get through to him when he first showed at her door. Maybe what he had done wouldn’t have been so damn painful. Maybe Sam would have know to stay with her. To keep him away from her.

Dean shook his head in anger. He couldn’t use his guessing for a damn thing. What had happened had happened. He had done what he he had done. He had lost her, and at the very least, she deserved for him to hear her out. So he tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter, but nothing he had ever imagined could have prepared him for the words he was about to read.

_Dean…_

_I so hope you will get a chance to read this. That Sam really can cure you. The world needs you Dean. Sam needs you. I need to know you are out there keeping us all safe. I know you will say that is crap. That you are just a hunter, just like me, but that is not true Dean. The world would have ended if it weren’t for you and Sam. You keep this miserable thing turning. You tip the scale to the side of good._

_I am sorry Dean. I am sorry I was selfish. I am sorry I let you remain that thing for longer than you had to. I am sorry I didn’t call Sam after the first night you spend at my cabin. I am sorry I never told you how much I love you. I am sorry for letting my need for having you, feeling you, cloud my judgement._

_We were friends once Dean. I know you won’t blame me for anything that happened. Hell, you are probably beating yourself up about it, thinking that you hurt me. But Dean, nothing can be further from the truth. I saw the darkness and the demon in you, but I also knew there was just enough left of you in there that you would never hurt me. Not really. I was never scared of you. You didn’t force me to do anything. I let you. I wanted to. I wanted you. Even if it wasn’t all of you. I got to have you for a few days, and I am so sorry for forcing you to stay in the dark because of my selfishness. I am so sorry for everything I am forcing you to feel right now._

_Please don’t blame yourself Dean. Blame it, all of it, on my wild heart. My wild heart that has been in love with you from the moment we met. My cowardly heart that never told you, because I was sure you didn’t feel the same. I know you never will now. Not after all I let happen. I just needed you to know._

_I am sorry I am not there, but facing you, is facing everything I did. Everything I didn’t do. Please don’t blame yourself Dean. I love you, and nothing will ever change that. Even now knowing I will never see you again. My heart maybe broken and damaged from the darkness and monsters of this world, but you held it together. I leave a piece of it with you, and I will always remember you Dean Winchester._

_Please take care of yourself. Don’t blame yourself for the things I did._

_Yours forever,_

_Y/N._

A tear fell from Dean’s eye wetting the paper next to her name. How could she love him? After all he had done. He didn’t deserve her love. Now less than ever.

No matter what she said, this was on him. He had taken on the mark. He had come to her. He had been in control. He had held her down and tied her up. He had fucked her for hours every night. He had watched her tears and not cared.

Dean closed his eyes as he slowly began to realize the meaning of her tears. She hadn’t cried because he had forced her. Maybe he hadn’t. She had cried because it wasn’t him, not all him anyway, lying in bed next to her. The realization didn’t make him feel less sick to his stomach. It was his fault she felt like that in the first place. He had let her fall in love with him, when he should have seen it and pushed her away.  

He didn’t deserve her. He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her. Still, that wasn’t what made him fold the letter and shove it into his pocket before push himself off of the bed. That wasn’t what made him find a pen and paper and scribble down a note for Sam. It wasn’t what made him walk out of the Bunker into the garage. She was on his mind when he pulled the Impala out of the garage, heading into the night.

It wasn’t selfish love that made him go search for her. It wasn’t need or lust. Not this time. This time it was care and compassion. He loved her so much it hurt. He loved her so much he knew it would break him to see her and have to walk away from her again. Still, he knew that was what he had to do.

He needed to find her. He needed to tell her this wasn’t on her. He couldn’t let her go through life thinking she was to blame for a single one of his action. For anything that had happened these past few days. He couldn’t let her do that to herself.

He wanted to tell her her loved her. He wanted to beg her to come back. He wanted to show her how much he really cared about her and how things could be different, but the Mark that burned on his skin reminded him that it couldn’t be. He was no longer a demon, but he also wasn’t himself, not completely.

He needed to find her to resolve her pain, but he couldn’t let her come back with him. He couldn’t let her know how he really felt. How deeply. Not while the Mark was still on his arm. Not as long as he was a greater danger to her than any monster she could ever face on her own. He needed to see her to let her go. He needed to make her let him go.

Even knowing he needed her now more than ever, he couldn’t let her in. He would talk, say whatever she needed to hear to see he was to blame. That all the pain was his doing, but he would not put her in danger. He would not risk hurting her. Not ever again. 


End file.
